


Warmth Is Something He Doesn’t Get Often

by renealew



Category: Batman - Fandom, Tim Drake - Fandom
Genre: Gen, I swear, It starts sad, Sad Tim Drake, but only for a moment, it gets better tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 00:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renealew/pseuds/renealew
Summary: Tim’s eyes should've widened. He should’ve started tearing up and then Bruce would have hugged him and canceled the gala so they could have the night together. But his eyes narrowed and a perfect scowl replaced his confused look. A Drake scowl. Bruce had seen it on both Janet and Jack’s faces multiple times.He never thought he was see it on Tim’s face. And he never thought it would be aimed at him.





	Warmth Is Something He Doesn’t Get Often

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thank you for reading! Second, enjoy this, as it is my first time writing something on this app. Constructive criticism is welcomed and needed!

Warmth.

The warmth was new. Not like warm warmth, like sun rays, but an inside warmth that you can only feel when someone smiles at you or helps you or touches you. Sometimes the warmth was too much and he felt like he was burning alive. Other times he longed for the warmth, wanted it so badly he might’ve cried. He never cried. No, that’s wrong. Crying wasn’t allowed, crying meant weakness. He had to be strong for everyone, so no crying. That’s what Janet told him, and Janet was always right. Jack had always agreed with her, so that meant she had to be right.

Tim never felt warm with his parents. He knew why, it was as plain as the bruises on his stomach that were not from patrol last night. He also knew not to question it. Questions meant confusion, and confusion meant weakness. If you are confused, it means you do not understand, so you are weak. Do not be confused or weak, or else people will not see the best in you. They will only see your weakness, and they will target it to hurt you. Tim understood this very well. Bruce did not understand it, but he was not weak. Tim had assumed that maybe Bruce was the only one who had managed to evade the ‘confusion = weakness’ rule.

Bruce did not understand why Tim never cried or screamed when he had been badly hurt. The boy barely whimpered when he had been shot clean through the side and had ripped a few muscles. He did not understand why Tim had muttered an apology after he had gasped in pain after being thrown out a window. He may not understand those things, but he did understand two very important points : Janet and Jack Drake were vert bad parents, and when Tim fights, he always wins. No matter the fight, or the person he’s fighting, he always walks out bloody and victorious. And it terrified Bruce.

“Tim, it’s okay to cry.” he murmured one day as he wrapped up a stitched arm. Tim simply sent him a small smile and slowly shook his head, a breathless laugh leaving his mouth. 

“No, it’s not.” He replied, just as quietly. Bruce felt an unjust anger brew in his chest, not at Tim, but rather his parents.

”It’s okay to cry here. It’s encouraged, actually. Crying helps-“

”Crying means you’re weak, Bruce. I can’t be that right now. That report needs to be finished, and you have a gala in almost three hours. I can finish it for you, and then head home.” The smile on Tim’s face never wavered, never fell. Of course it didn’t, Janet taught him how to keep smiling, even if he felt weak.

”No.”

 

Well. That definitely made his smile fall into a confused frown. Was he missing something? Did he leave something at the crime scene? He didn’t think he did, he double checked everything.

”No? Is there something more? I can do it, don’t worry.” Tim’s attempt at soothing Bruce backfired tremendously.

”That’s the problem, Tim! I do worry! I worry so damn much about you but you brush it off as if being tossed off a roof is  _normal!_  It’s not normal, and you should be sobbing right now, but you’re offering to do my work for me and none of this is right and I  _worry.”_

Tim’s eyes should’ve widened. He should’ve started tearing up and then Bruce would’ve hugged him and canceled the gala so they could have the night together. But his eyes narrowed and a perfect scowl replaced the confused look. It was a Drake scowl. Bruce had seen it on both Janet and Jack’s faces multiple times.

He had never thought he would’ve seen the look on Tim’s face. And he never though the look would be aimed at him.

”Look, Bruce. I appreciate your worry, really, I do. It’s something I’ve never had in my life until now. But I need you to understand that  _I’ve never had it in my life until now._ I never had somebody worry about me the way you do. And, god, don’t get me wrong, it’s the best thing ever, but it’s new and I have no idea how to react or respond to it. I don’t know what to do after you or Alfred fix my wounds, so I offer my time to work, because that’s what I had been taught, and I honest to god don’t know what else I could possibly do!”

”You could try to stay safe for once! Instead of throwing yourself into battle as if your life doesn’t matter!”

” _ **Because my life doesn’t matter, Bruce!**_ I do not matter, not to my parents, not to you, not to anyone. I gladly accepted the bruises from my parents and the scars from patrol because there is nothing else I can do! Without them, without this, I am useless! There is  _nothing_ out there for me. Not one thing.” The last part was whispered, barely able to be heard had they not been in a cave that echoed literally everything.

Bruce froze, mouth handing wide open as he soaked in what Tim had just yelled at him. Tim had _yelled_. Tim had never raised his voice, not even when Scarecrow had dosed him will fear toxin. He had yelled, and somewhere pride bloomed along side the anger that had died down a bit.

”Don’t you dare,” he whispered as he grabbed Tim’s shoulders, “don’t you dare  _ever_ say that you do not matter. Because you matter so much to me and Alfred and Dick. You will have people at your feet will millions of opportunities when you are older because you are loved and respected be all of them. I don’t care what your parents say, Tim. They’re wrong. And I am going to do something about it, goddamnit. But right now you are going to stay with me, and we are going to eat scones and fall asleep in the living room because that’s what a family does. And I don’t care how long it takes you to grow use to the worry, I only care about you and the progress that you make everyday.”

Somewhere during the speech, he had maneuvered Tim into a tight hug, with the kid burying his face in the crook of Bruce’s neck. He ran his hands up and down the child’s back in a soothing manner as a sharp breath was heard. He smiled ever so slightly as the breaths hitched and broke, and finally the walls were torn down when Tim threw his arms around Bruce’s shoulders and  _sobbed_. He whispered small reassurances while Tim cried, missing the flash of blue and red near the exit of the cave.

 

 

”Well.”

”Well?”

”I guess I didn’t realize how much Replacement went through to earn his position.”

”Yeah, the kid’s been through a lot. He’s tough, but everyone has their breaking points sometimes. We’ll come back later. I’m sure by then Bruce and Timmy will have calmed down.”

”...you think Bruce is gonna want me back? What about the kid?”

”Little wing, Bruce is going to have a seizure of happiness and never let you out of his sight when he sees you. And Timmy will look up at you with his big, blue eyes, and he’ll probably say something cheesy like ‘you were my biggest hero’.”

”Oh. Really?”

”Really.”


End file.
